The Struggle of Matthew Williams: High School Student
by nedcans
Summary: It's Matt's first day of junior year, and he decides to break out from his brother's shadow, with the help of a certain albino. (high school!AU. Rating may change. First fanfic I've written in at least 6 years, god help me.)
1. Chapter 1

"Alfred! Get up!" Matthew yelled to his sleeping brother. Today was their first day of junior year, and it was already 7:30. Matt was _not_ going to be late because of his lazy ass brother. Al grumbled something in reply, turned back over, and was snoring again. Seriously? Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures.

There had to be a way to get the sleeping American up. Matt's eyes wandered to his hockey stick- no. Too brutal for a first attempt. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea, and smiled. He walked downstairs, and filled a large pot up with cold water. Walking slowly back upstairs, spilling water here and there, he opened Alfred's room. This had to wake him up. He crept slowly to the side of Alfred's bed, and began to tip the pot-

"Matthew Williams, I swear to god if you pour that water on me, I'm shoving your hockey stick up your Canadian ass." Damn. Caught in the act. Alfred didn't even open his eyes when he spoke to his brother. Typical. "Well then wake the fuck up and I won't have to resort to these drastic measures," Matt huffed, but it seems like Al was asleep again. Matthew swore he was narcoleptic. Well, he had to wake up Al somehow. He started tipping the pot again.

"No lube." God damn it. "Al, oh my god, it's 7:40. Get the fuck up." Alfred's blue eyes shot open. "Why the hell didn't you tell me how late it was?" Matthew shrugged. "Your alarm went off 20 minutes ago. I thought you knew." Al shook his head incredulously. "Fuck, I have to get ready. Yell for me at 7:50." Al jumped out of bed and jogged to the bathroom, and Matt heard the shower start. Did he really have to have a shower? Matt sighed and walked downstairs.

His dad, Arthur, had woken up and was making toast. Well, burning toast. Arthur wasn't the best cook. It was only a matter of time before Francis, his papa, would stumble sleepily into the kitchen and complain about the smell waking him up, and end up making breakfast himself. "Good morning, Matthew. Where is your brother?" Arthur asked. "Getting ready. I just managed to get him up about 5 minutes ago." Matt replied. Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "I swear, that boy is never on time for anything. I wish he could be more like you sometimes." "Maybe we should have adopted two little Canadians instead of just one," Francis joked, walking into the kitchen.

"I still say we should have adopted a Brit." Arthur huffed, and Matthew remembered visiting an orphanage in Britain when he was young to find a new brother. Arthur really wanted a child the same nationality as him (so did Francis, who was French, but he ended up settling for a French-Canadian.) "Oh sure! Let's all talk about how we shouldn't have adopted Alfred!" Alfred complained melodramatically from the top of the stairs, bounding down them, his blonde hair dripping wet.

Matt took a moment and realized how similar he looked to his adopted brother, even though he wasn't blood related at all to him. They had the same shade of blonde hair, similar face and body structures, both wore glasses, and both had cowlicks (though Matt's tended to curl a lot more than Alfred's did.) Sure, Matt's hair was curlier, and he was slightly smaller, and his eyes were bluer, but the two were frighteningly similar. Like, kill-your-double similar.

But the similarities ended there. Their personalities were way off. While Matt was shy and generally reserved (when hockey wasn't involved), Alfred was loud and sociable. Matt used to be captain of his junior hockey team, and he played offense, and Alfred played defense on the football team. They were both smart, but Alfred excelled in math and science, while Matt was better in history and languages. Matt and Alfred were as different as day and night, and they had been since they were adopted.

Matt was adopted first. Francis and Arthur, who were married in 2004 in Quebec, immediately went to adopt a kid. Francis fell in love with Matthew, an adorable 6 year old boy. Arthur agreed, and they had him adopted before his 7th birthday. In 2006, after the couple had been looking for nearly a year in the United Kingdom for a kid they could adopt, they found Alfred in an orphanage in New York. He was 3 days older than Matthew (Al was born on the 4th of July,) and though Arthur complained through the entire process about how he would rather have a Brit, Alfred ended up being a total daddy's boy, and Arthur loved every second of it. Matthew and Alfred got along like blood brothers, and their little family was finally complete.

Al shook Matt out of his daydream, and told him it was 7:55, time to go to school. Matt hugged his fathers goodbye, and got on the bus, excited for his first day of school.

Until, of course, he got there, and remembered, he hated school. Alfred seemed to be having the same dilemma. "Ugh. Why do we have to come back here every year? At least we're almost seniors." He looked down to his schedule. "Hey Mattie, who's homeroom are you in?" "Oh, uh, Mr. Edelstein's. You?" Matt asked his brother, praying they were in the same one. Matthew didn't know how to socialize if he didn't have his brother there to help him out. "Damn it! They usually put us together but I guess they're going by my actual last name now. You'd think Dad would have changed it on my documents by now. I'm in Mr. Abels." Matthew felt himself pout a bit. Not only did he get separated from him, but his brother got Matt's favorite teacher. Mr. Abels was the cool history teacher from Holland. Matthew was stuck with the not cool, uptight music teacher from Austria.

Noticing Matt's frown, Alfred snuck a look at Matt's schedule. "Hey, but we have AP Lang together, and APUSH, you can help me out with that, and wow, you have AP Euro? Oh but look, we have AP Calculus together, I can help you-" Al tried to cheer his brother up, but Matt cut him off. "What the hell do you mean I'm in AP Calc?!" Matt looked down at his schedule and groaned. He had AP Calc second period. Damn his good guessing skills, making him score high on math placement tests!

"Hey bro, Calc is easy, I'll help you out." Al tried to comfort him, but Matthew was already on the verge of giving up for the year, and he hadn't even been to class yet. "I give up, Al." Matt complained. Al just laughed and clapped him on the back. "Don't give up, little bro!" Al smiled, and Matt gave him the same glare he always gave Alfred when he called him his little brother. Matt was three days younger than him, and they weren't even really related. "Come on, we only have homeroom once a week. I'm sure Edelstein won't bite. You aren't even his student anymore." Al tried one last time to cheer up Matt before the bell rang, but it didn't seem to work, and Matthew trudged off to his homeroom. He really wanted to go home.

Al managed to be wrong about Edelstein. He was even more uptight than he had been when Matthew had him last year for AP Music Theory. (It must have been because Matt got a 2 on the exam.)And of course, Matt didn't know any of the people in his homeroom. He looked around and saw some familiar faces; Raivis, Feliks, Toris, Heracles , and Mei were in there, but he was nothing more than acquaintances with them. Matt sighed and took a seat in the back, hoping that he would have at least one friend in his home room. Mathias walked in, and waved at Matt. Thank god, someone he actually knew! He had been friends with Mathias since middle school, and they first started hanging out solely because they both went by Matt, and Mathias thought that was awesome.

Mathias walked over to Matthew, and was going to sit down before Mr. Edelstein glared at him. "You're supposed to be in my wife's room, Mr. Kᴓhler." Edelstein said coldly, his voice accented heavily. Mathias cocked his head, and looked down at his schedule. "Oh, hey! It does say Mrs. Edelstein. Well damn, that sucks, I'll see you later Matt!" Mathias exclaimed as he walked away. Matt managed a, "Bye, Matt," and he was alone again. Matt sighed. This year was going to suck, he could tell already.

The bell rang for homeroom to start, and Matt sighed. Maybe this was a good thing, not having any friends in his class. It would force him to break out of his shell, and become more sociable. What a great silver lining! Matt smiled and decided that during lunch, maybe he'd sit with Raivis or Heracles. He had Music Theory with them last year, and they were pretty okay.

"You are staying in your homeroom today until after lunch. I have several important papers I need you to sign and turn in to me tomorrow. If you have any issues with your schedule, you may come speak to me and I will help you get it changed." Wait, so, Matt could drop Calculus? Hell yes. He was going to get up to talk to Mr. Edelstein, but then he remembered how cruel the man could be to people he thought were stupid. Dropping Calculus would make Matt look really stupid. Matt did not feel like getting made fun of by a pretentious teacher today, and decided that he'd just deal.

Mr. Edelstein passed a stack of papers to Matt. They were the usual school stuff; where he lived, his mother'sand father's names (which would always lead to Matt awkwardly asking what to write if you had two fathers, and getting laughed at by the whole class,) who to call in emergencies, contracts that made him promise not to shoot up the school or whatever. Matt had finished signing them, and was busy coming up with hockey plays in his head, when the door opened and a look of annoyance washed over Mr. Edelstein's face. He let out an irritated sigh.

Matthew looked up and saw that someone had walked in. He was tall, had pale skin, and he wore a beanie and glasses. Damn, he was _pale._ Did he ever leave the house? He must be more introverted than Matthew. He was skinny, too. "Class, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt. He just moved here from Germany, with his brother and grandfather. They just so happen to be my cousins." Mr. Edelstein told the class. Gilbert smirked, pointed at Edelstein, and clicked his tongue at him. Matt rolled his eyes. This dude's entire vibe just screamed douchebag. Matt was given evidence to support this when Gil went straight to Mr. Edelstein's seat and sat down, propping his feet on the teacher's desk. Edelstein glared at him. "You will have a seat like the rest of the students, Gilbert. You don't get special treatment because you're my cousin." "Oh come on, Specs! There aren't even any seats left!" Gilbert's voice was just as accented, if not more, than his cousin's.

Matthew had an empty seat beside him, but he didn't care to advertise this. Maybe Mr. Edelstein would forget he was here, like he had done numerous times, and just go drag a desk from his wife's room. Matt pulled out his phone and started to play with it, not watching the two Germans anymore, but kept listening to them. (It was hard not to.) "Don't be stupid, Gilbert. There's an empty seat in the back." Edelstein said, looking as if he was about to physically dump Gilbert out of his chair.

"Come on, Roddy, you know my eyes suck." Gilbert whined, and Matthew stifled a laugh. Roddy? That was almost worse than his actual name, Roderich. "Well luckily for you, you don't need to see the front of the room for homeroom. Now go sit down." Edelstein demanded. Gilbert grumbled but did as he was told. Shit, as funny as the whole 'Roddy' thing was, Matt didn't want to sit by Gil. He wanted to be alone.

Gilbert sat down at the table next to Matt. He was muttering something under his breath in what was probably German. Matthew, who was like some sort of savant with languages, didn't know much German, but could get the gist of it. Something about "That asshole knows I can't see my hand in front of my face, why did he put me way in the back?" Matt ignored the upset German beside him and kept playing his game. Maybe he could go unnoticed by Gilbert. People forgot about him all the time.

"Gilbert, take off the hat and glasses." Edelstein said, and Matthew heard an audible gasp from the German. "Nein! I mean, uh, no way. You know that I can't-" Gilbert started, but was cut off. "Yes you can. You never wore the hat and glasses in Germany, it just started when you came to America. You will take them off or I'll write you up." Edelstein warned. "That's complete bullshit, Roderich, you know-" Gilbert was cut off by Edelstein again. "Language, Gilbert. Perhaps I should tell your grandfather, as well?" Once again grumbling in German, Gilbert did as he was told, and pulled off his beanie and sunglasses.

And, woah. So that's why he didn't want to take them off. His hair was snow-white, and his eyes were blood red. He was an albino. So that accounted for his pale skin. And, oh no, he's hot. Despite the obvious discolorings, anyways.

Matthew tried not to stare, like the rest of the class was doing, and kept playing on his phone. He could hear the whole class whispering about Gilbert. Their high school was small, and Matt doubted some of these people even knew what an albino was. He snuck another look at Gilbert, and he could feel the embarrassment radiating off him. Oh, well. His phone was more important than secondhand embarrassment, and Matt went back to trying to beat his high score on Flappy Bird.

"Matthew, put your phone up." Matthew heard Mr. Edelstein call almost 15 minutes later. It made Matt jump, and he could feel Gilbert's red eyes on him after he was called out. Matt mumbled an, "I'm sorry," and put it up. "Seems like I'm not the only one getting Roddy's wrath today!" Gilbert exclaimed to Matt. Shit, shit, shit, he had to talk. Matthew was not a good talker, especially not to cute guys.

He had been in Quebec, in his orphanage. At least, that's what it seemed like from what his Papa told him. Francis would always say, the reason they decided to adopt Matthew was because of how, when he heard that Francis was French, he went up to the man and had a fluent (well, as fluent as a 6 year old could be,) conversation with him in French. And when he went home with the two, apparently he wouldn't ever be quiet. His gregariousness seemed to die down as he learned English better. But Matt still loved talking to his father in French. Maybe he ought to just move back to Quebec.

But, shit, he still hadn't said anything to Gilbert. He had to think of something. Something that would make a douche like him think he was cool- wait, why did he want Gilbert to think he was cool? Sure, he wanted friends, but was he this desperate?

"Y-yeah, eh." Shit. That was not cool. And what the hell? He had managed to make it an entire summer without stammering or saying eh (his nervous, Canadian tick.) God, Matt hated meeting new people. It was so stressful! He always worried if they would like him or not, even if it was people he shouldn't care either way about. Like this German, albino, douchebag. Who was still talking. Shit, what did he say?

"-that way since he left Germany when I was like, 10." Was all Matt caught from Gilbert's sentence. Sometimes he felt like he paid less attention than Al did. "I'm s-sorry, eh, what did you say?" Gilbert laughed. Was he laughing at him or with him? Damn it, Matt wished he could read people better. "I said Roddy wasn't always such a jerk-off. He used to be really nice to me and my brother, but he hasn't been that way since he left Germany when I was young. And what is up with you? You shouldn't stammer, I know I'm awesome, but I don't bite!" Gilbert laughed even harder. Damn, his laugh was kind of… what's the word? Oh, annoying.

"S-sorry. I don't meet new people well, I guess. It's kind of stressful for me, eh." Matthew wanted to hit himself. He wasn't consciously able to stop himself from saying 'eh.' It was a Canadian's burden to shoulder, but he really didn't want to deal with it right now. If he didn't stop soon, Gil would-

"And those 'eh's', man! What are you, Canadian?"

-Notice.

Fuck.

"Uh, yeah. I was born and raised there, my parents adopted me when I was 6 and brought me here." Matt managed to get the whole sentence out with not one 'eh.' Score one, Matthew. "Awesome! The Gods must have brought us two immigrants together to be awesome best friends! There is no other explanation!" Gil exclaimed. Matt just laughed nervously and nodded, making eye contact with him for the first time, and Matt noticed his eyes were moving all weird. He remembered from biology last year that albinos were suspect to weird-ass eye disorders. He smiled, trying to think of something to say and avoid staring at his eyes. Thank god, the bell for lunch rang.

What an asshole.

Matt's plan for lunch was to sit with either Raivis or Heracles. Raivis, though, had gone to sit in the library and Heracles was nowhere to be found. Probably playing with the stray cats behind the school again. He was hoping that maybe Mathias, or Alfred, or hell, even a teacher he liked was in this lunch, but, nope. Matt seemed to be alone. He took his lunch to an empty table and sighed. Oh well, at least he was used to alone. He had gotten nearly halfway through the lunch period, before he saw someone sit in front of him.

It was Gilbert. He had put his hat and glasses back on, obviously wanting to hide his condition. "Hey! So we're in the same lunch." "Obviously, we're in the same class," Matthew muttered, but Gilbert didn't hear him. He was too busy pulling his food out of a paper sack. "I would have sat by you from the start, but Roddy wanted to talk to me. You looked kind of lonely." Gilbert said, his mouth full of food. What the hell was he eating? Was that sour kraut? What the hell. It wasn't like Matt brought pancakes and poutine to school with him. (Okay, that was a lie, but it was one time.)

"So, Roddy said your name was Matthew, right?" Gil asked, still eating his stupid stereotype food. "Just Matt, eh." Shit, not again with the eh's. "Just Matt? That's boring. I'm going to call you Mattie, until I know you well enough to give you a proper nickname." Gil smiled. Matt tried not to look horrified. People only called him Mattie when they pitied him. People called him Mattie when they treated him like a child. Because Mattie is a child's name. He didn't call Alfred 'Alfie,' (though Arthur still did at times.) He wasn't going to call Gilbert 'Gilly.' So Gilbert shouldn't call Matthew 'Mattie.' "Don't give me that look, Mattie. Everyone gets a nickname from me. Hell, Roddy has two, and my brother has so many I've lost count. It means I like ya. If it makes you feel better, call me Gil."

Wait, Gilbert liked him? Had Matthew made a friend? Wait, Matt didn't want to be friends with this asshole. But, still, friends. Matt hadn't made a new friend on his own since Mathias in 6th grade. He felt himself smile- shit, he didn't want to smile. He didn't' want to be called Mattie. "That usually warms people up to the whole nickname thing. I wouldn't want someone calling me Gil unless I had an awesome nickname to give them too!"

Matthew's smile turned into a nervous laugh. What the hell do you say to that? Thankfully, he was saved by the bell again. He threw his food out and quickly made his way to his next class, which his schedule said was AP European History, with Mr. Abels. Hell. Yes. History was Matt's favorite subject, and Mr. Abels was the best teacher ever. He had him freshman year for civics, and last year for world history, and the two were close enough that Matt could get away with calling him by his first name, Tim. The two were hella tight.

Tim's eyes lit up when Matt walked into his room. "Hell yeah, my favorite student is back for more!" He exclaimed, his voice as accented as Edelstein's. Matt smiled. "Of course, you know I had to take this class." Tim smiled back. "Just letting you know, this class is a hell of a lot harder than the last two you took with me." "I can take it." Matt said. Why the hell couldn't he talk to people his age like this?

Matt took his seat in the front of the class, by the window, where he had always sat in Tim's room. Tim had given him the syllabus for the class, and Matt leafed through it. The class seemed pretty easy, honestly. Start at the Renaissance and end at the Cold War? 600 years weren't shit to Matthew Williams, history expert. He didn't know what the hell DBQs were, but he was an FRQ master. And with Tim as his teacher, he could do no wrong.

Matt was beginning to completely forget about Gilbert. Maybe, if Matt was lucky, he wouldn't have any more classes with the albino.

But was Matt ever lucky? Fuck no.

Just as he had that thought, a familiar person, in a beanie and sunglasses walked in. Fucking why? And he sat in the desk next to Matthew. His eyes must really be bad, or Matt must really be invisible, because Gilbert didn't notice Matt at all until Tim came over to talk to him. Gil laughed. "Haha, I told ya Mattie! God brought us immigrants together! Sorry I didn't see you, us albinos have really bad eyesight. I can't believe we have this class together, I didn't know you liked history!" Was Gil a history buff too? That would be amazing, Matthew would finally have a friend who liked history- wait, Matt didn't want to be his friend. Gil was loud, and obnoxious, and kinda egotistical. Wait. Did Matt just call him Gil in his inner monologue? Shit.

Well, at least people would think he had friends besides Alfred and Tim.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, maybe AP Euro wasn't going to be as easy as Matthew thought. Tim assigned that the class memorize a complete map of Europe (Like, rivers, mountains, seas, fucking everything,) by this time next week. Totally not cool, who the hell even assigns that much stuff? And it wasn't fair that Gil already knew it from where he grew up in Europe. That's like dropping Matt in the middle of a Canadian history class, full of Americans, and giving them a week to memorize all the geography of Canada. And besides, this was a history class! Not geography. He grumbled all the way to his last period, Chemistry. Ugh.

Matt _hated_ chemistry, just like he did any type of science. But at least Al, who was in AP, could help him out. He barely even remembered the class, just a blur of note taking (he doodled), lecturing (he didn't pay any attention,) and total boredom. Mrs. Edelstein taught this class, and though she was kinder than her husband, she was a really, really boring teacher. After the longest 45 minutes of his life, the bell rang, and finally Matt could meet up with Al and complain his ass off about his day.

Except, of course, Al had football practice, a text from his brother told him. Great, he got to be alone on the bus, and that was always awkward. Matthew let out a sigh. Why did the football team even practice? They were shitty anyways.

Matt got on the bus, and was leaned against the window. Well, at least with Alfred gone, Matt got the window seat. He rode the bus home, playing a game on his phone. Once he was home, he found that his parents were still at work. Great. What was Matthew going to do in this big empty house by himself?

What kind of question was that? He was going to eat, obviously.

Matt had the best metabolism he had ever heard of. Even after he stopped playing hockey, and he was on the ice at best once a month, he managed to keep slim. And Matt ate _a lot._ He made pancakes, and smothered them in maple syrup, because damn it, it was okay to be a stereotype if you've had a bad day. Matt bit into his pancake and laughed. At least he could hold comfort in the fact that if Al ate like he did, he would be the size of a planet. Sure, he could make friends better and had better muscles and didn't stutter at inappropriate times, and knew how to do math and was generally the better brother, but damn it, at least Matt had a better metabolism.

He had almost finished his pancakes when his phone vibrated. That's weird, Matt thought. Arthur or Francis would usually call, Al was still at football practice, and Matthias usually didn't talk to him outside of school. Who could this be? Matt opened up his messages and found a text from an unknown number.

_Hey Mattie! I found your number laying around spec's desk lol! In some confidential stack of papers or some shit. You're the only person I can talk to that wont rack up hella international bills so sup?_

Matt contemplated not texting Gilbert back. The dude went through Edelstein's fucking papers to contact Matt. Kinda creepy.

Eventually, he decided to text back anyways. Gil was a bit loud for Matt, but, it was probably the best shot at a friend he'd have all year.

_Eating._

It was a simple reply, but Matt thought it was okay. It was all he was doing, anyways. He ate a few more forkfuls of pancake before Gil replied.

_Cool,cool. I m doing the same, honestly. About to start memorizing that map!_

_Must be a lot easier for you, since you grew up in Europe. It's kind of not fair, why can't we do a map of Canada or something I could do?_

_Oh come on mattie. Its easy! Even if ur not from Europe. Honestly I only know the place in west and central, the east side of Europe is a totalll mystery to me lmao. Maybe one day after school this week we could get together and study it_

_Hah. Maybe._ Okay, that was a step too far for Matt. Yeah, he wanted help memorizing this map, but face to face? That would be difficult for Matt. He didn't know Gil, and would end up just being socially awkward and making things weird.

_We totally should! I don't know anyone else that could help me, just my lame little brother, and id rather go it on my own then with him! What do you say mattie?_

_I'd have to check my schedule. Hockey season is starting soon, and I kind of want to try starting a team. Probably won't have enough people but whatever. _Hey, maybe Matt could recruit Gil.

_Hockey, eh? Lmao. Id join ur team if I knew anything about the sport, itd help me make friends._ Damn, so Matt couldn't recruit him.

But wait, that last part hit him hard. Help him make friends? The same thing Matthew was trying to do? Maybe Gil wasn't an asshole. Maybe he was just misunderstood and not used to the culture.

Okay, maybe he was just an asshole. He probably had the ability to talk to people in person anyways, unlike a certain Canadian.

_Yeah,I bet it would_. _I honestly need the help too, haha. All I have is Alfred._

_Awww mattie is lonely :c ill be ur friend! Whos Alfred?_

Did Gil just say friend? Heeeeellll yeah. Sure, he may be a little wary about the whole Gilbert thing, but who cares? Friends.

_Alfred is my brother._ No need to mention how excited Matt was about having a real friend for once, not just a secondhand friend he would hang out with when they hung out with Al.

_Ohhh, my lil bros name is Ludwig, hes a sophomore. What grade is Alfred in?_

Ohhhh shit, here comes the, "We're in the same grade," convo. That always leads to the, "Are you twins?" question, which leads to the, "No, we're adopted, we just have close birthdays," question, which always, always tends to reveal that Matt had two dads. Sure, people had gotten a lot less stupid as time went on, and people didn't bother him about his dads anymore, but there were still a lot of people who didn't like that two men could raise children. Ah, fuck it. If Gil didn't like it, Matt didn't care.

_Junior, same as us._

_Oh! Are you twins? _Nailed it.

_No, we're adopted, remember? We were just born really close together._ Hadn't Matt already told Gilbert he was adopted? The albino must have forgotten.

_Oh sorry to touch on the topic :c my parents almost put me up for adoption, you know cause im albino and shit? But then my opa took me in. my grandfather I mean, and they took in Lud a few years later. My parents were kinda shitty people_

Well damn, that was kind of a lot to tell someone the first day knowing them. What was Matt supposed to say to that?

_I'm sorry._ He would just Canadian his way out.

_Nah lol is fine. I never really knew my parents so whatever. Opa raised me so hes my family!_

How the hell did you reply to that? Matt decided that he wouldn't, and let his phone get lost somewhere in the couch cushions.

Matt turned on the TV not long after that, and turned on Netflix. He struggled to find something decent worth watching, and ended up watching Attack on Titan again. 5 episodes or so in, while Matthew was tearing up (because episode 5 of any anime is where happiness goes to die,) he heard the door open. He looked behind him, and saw it was Alfred.

He looked out of breath, and was sopping wet. "What the hell, Al?" Matt asked. Alfred just put up a hand and leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, catching his breath. "Dad and Papa have a hot date or something and couldn't get me." He managed after a bit. "I had to run home in the fucking rain." Matt snickered at his brother. "Ha, damn Al. You should have called me, I would have stolen the car and came and got you." Al looked upset. "So I ran here for nothing? Fuck!" He dumped his bags on the floor and walked over to the couch, still soaking wet. Fuck, he wasn't going to do what Matt thought, was he?

"You know, it's been so long since I've shown any affection to my little brother." Al smirked. Fuck, he was. "Alfred, I swear to god, I will shove my hockey stick-" Matt started, but his threat did nothing to deter his brother, who jumped into Matthew's lap, getting the Canadian just as wet as he had been. Matt tried pushing him off, but he was too damn heavy. "Alfred, no lube!" He called from under him, but Al didn't seem to heed these threats as much as Matt did. Finally, laughing, Alfred kissed his brother on the cheek and got off of him.

"I fucking hate you, Al." Matt grumbled, wiping at his cheek, his favorite red hoodie now soaking wet. "God, you soaked me down to my fucking boxers." Matt cringed, feeling his boxers sticking to his legs. How wet could Al have gotten in the 20 minutes it took to get home? It wasn't raining that hard.

Alfred smirked. "Revenge for this morning." "I didn't even get you wet!" Matt complained. Al just smirked bigger. Ugh, now Matt would have to take a shower, or he'd smell like wet football player all night. Matt walked past his brother, and shoulder checked him, just for good measure. Al stumbled, and Matthew laughed. The big bad football player couldn't handle hockey rules.

Freshly showered and his wet clothes put into the dryer, Matt decided to work on the map Tim had assigned. He got the countries and capitals memorized easily, but damn, those landforms were tough. How could he memorize that? He sighed. He had a week, he'd do it later. Maybe he really would need Gil's help-

No. He really didn't need Gil's help. Gil would think he was stupid. He'd ask Tim for help before he asked Gil.

Matthew sighed even louder and threw the map across the room. But, since it was paper, it kind of just fluttered to the ground. Damn, that was boring. Life was boring. What could Matt do to entertain himself?

He lit a cigarette and sucked in smoke, feeling it burn his throat slightly, and his head feel dizzy from the nicotine. Maybe that would unbore him. Exhale. Nope, nicotine still wasn't a cure for boredom. Why did Matt always think it would be? Inhale. He had to do something. Exhale. Why couldn't he make any friends? Inhale. Al was playing Call of Duty with his friends. Probably Toris or someone. Why did Al have to be able to make friends so much better than Matt? Maybe he could finally text back Gil. Exhale. Nah.

Matt jumped as he heard his parents coming home, scrambling to find a place to put out his cigarette. His dads probably wouldn't care if they knew Matt and Al smoked, but he didn't want to risk it. He put his half smoked cigarette in his secret drawer, and went downstairs to see his family.

"Bonjour, Mathieu!" Francis beamed. Matt smiled back. "Bonjour, Papa." Arthur walked in the door, shaking water off his umbrella, carrying McDonald's. "When the bloody hell did it start raining so hard?" He complained. "Oh, since about say, 6, you know, when I had to walk home!" Alfred yelled from upstairs. A flash of guilt ran over Arthur's face, and Francis laughed. "We brought you McDonald's, will that make up for it?" Arthur yelled, and Alfred had ran downstairs immediately. "Hell yeah it does." He said, and grabbed his Big Mac from the bag. Matt quietly took his chicken nuggets, sending a glare to Alfred, and made his way back upstairs.

He flopped down on his bed and sighed. Still bored. Finally, he decided to just go to sleep. His day was exhausting, he deserved an early night. He yawned, threw his McDonalds in the garbage beneath his window, and snuggled into bed. Maybe tomorrow would end up better

And in all honesty, the second day was better. A lot better. He had first, second, and fourth period with Alfred, which made it a lot easier for him to socialize. By the end of the second day, Matt had even managed to meet a few people; Antonio, a senior in his 1st period who promised to teach him Spanish, and a Russian exchange student named Ivan in his 2nd and 4th period that was extremely interested in Matt's hockey team. He found that Euro with Gilbert wasn't actually all that bad, that Gilbert wasn't that bad, and he had even managed to get Tim to fill in his map for him. Maybe junior year wouldn't be as bad as he was dreading.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt had started recruiting for his hockey team as soon as school started for the year, and he was not doing well. He had only managed to get himself, Ivan, a couple seniors Matt had never heard of, and Mathias. Matt sighed. 5 people don't make a team. The school had rules about this kind of stuff, and the only way they would get any sponsorship was if they had at least 8 members. Nobody in their small high school wanted to join a hockey team, Matt doubted if most of them could even skate. He was about to start texting Ivan that he doubted they'd be able to have a team, when a message on his phone popped up from Gilbert.

Matthew had grown a bit fonder of Gilbert in the month or so he'd been in class with him. Sure, he was a bit egotistical, and kind of loud. But Matt had gotten to know him better, to the point where Matt could actually talk around him, and he felt Gil was a real friend, not just someone he forced himself to talk to so he would feel like he had a social life.

_Mattie, ur making a hockey team, right? Because I just sort of off handedly mentioned that to my lil brother and he kind of lit up and I think he wants to join? _

Holy shit. Gil was a lifesaver. Matt had only met Ludwig once or twice; he had Tim's class the period after Matt, and he and Gilbert ran into Ludwig if he was ever running early. Yet, despite not knowing him well, Matt could tell a few things about him. Ludwig was built, for one. He was only a sophomore, but this kid was bigger than half the football team. The power this kid must have on the ice would be phenomenal, especially if he was on offense. If he could get Ludwig? There may be a chance.

_Hell yes. Please. Ludwig would do great on the fucking ice you don't even understand._

_I told him and he went all whaaat nooo im not good enough. Idk maybe he doesn't want to join_

_If Ludwig can play hockey, he's joining this team, whether he wants to or not. I'll threaten him with a hockey stick if I have to._

_Lmao, matt you made me order lunch for you once I doubt you'd do that_

_That was one fucking time, that lunch lady was mean! Stfu. I need Ludwig on this team._

_Ok, come over and convince him urself. _Attached to the text, Gilbert had put his address, and before Matt knew what he was doing, he had grabbed his hockey stick and climbed out his window and was well on his way to Gil's house, which was surprisingly close. Hockey Matt doesn't fuck around. He texted Gil that he was on his way, and nearly ran the stretch to the German's house.

But when he got there, he realized he had fucked up. That he would have to talk to Ludwig, who was as socially awkward as Matt was, which would just end up as a big stammering match, probably. He was about to turn around, when he heard the door open. Aw, fuck.

"Come on in, Mattie! Convince Luddy here that he should join the hockey team!" Gilbert yelled at him. Oh, no. Matt wasn't good at meeting families. It had taken him until 8th grade to meet Mathias's. He'd known Gilbert a month. Damn it, why did hockey do this kind of thing to him? Must be a Canadian thing.

Matt begrudgingly turned around, gripping his stick tightly, and walked into Gil's house. It was a pretty average place, but the way it was decorated made it look a lot homier than Matt's. The smell of cooking food made it even more inviting, and Matt began to wonder what he was even worried about. That is, until he saw the huge sophomore sitting on the couch, watching the Montreal Canadiens vs. Chicago Blackhawks game. He had a flash of anxiety, then his hockey mode kicked in, and he sat beside the German, leaving Gilbert alone at the door.

"Canadiens are totally gonna win." Matt said offhandedly. It was the third period, and they were down two points, but any hockey fan knows this feeling. "Ja, I doubt that. They've been playing poorly all night." Ludwig spoke, and it surprised Matt. His voice was deep, and heavily accented, just like his brother's, but he was more sure about the English he was speaking. "I've been watching Montreal play since I was like, in the womb. They'll come back, I'm sure of it." Ludwig sighed. "I think you are thinking of the Toronto Maple Leafs… From what I've seen of the Canadiens, they are bad all the time." Matt was shocked. No one would talk about his hometown team like that and get away with it! "What? No way. I don't know what they do in Germany, but in Canada, Canadiens are top notch hockey. Watch. I promise you, they will come back. Watch it."

And come back they did. They went past regulation, but they ended up winning on a shootout. Ludwig looked shocked, and Matt looked pleased with himself. "I'm from Montreal, eh. Our team is underrated, but we're fucking great." Matt heard Gilbert laugh and reenter the living room. "If you all are done being lovebirds now, you can come eat."

Wait, what? No, hockey was over and Matt had lost his ability to talk. What if Gilbert's grandfather was in the kitchen? He couldn't handle that, but Gilbert pulled him into the kitchen anyways. Dear God, no.

The kitchen was thankfully grandfather free. Well, at least Matt didn't have to meet anyone totally new tonight. Gilbert handed him a plate of something German looking, and Matt smiled nervously. Matt hadn't been to dinner at someone else's house in almost 3 years. Gilbert and Ludwig didn't seem to notice Matt's nervousness.

"So do you know when Opa will be home?" Gil asked Ludwig. "Nein. You know how he can be. He's never home." Ludwig replied. Matt ate and listened to them. That's weird, leaving your newly immigrated, adopted teenage grandsons alone in a new country for weeks at a time. Oh well, it wasn't Matt's place to judge. Gilbert noticed Matt's non-judging, and tried to offer an explanation. "Opa works for this big globalized business. It keeps him travelling for weeks on end, it's crazy. He said if we moved to America he'd be able to be more stationary, but that didn't really happen. Where is he right now, West?" Ludwig thought for a moment. "Haiti for now, I think. Then he's in Denmark for a month."

What the hell kind of job sent you from Haiti to Denmark? It still wasn't Matt's place to judge. With his dad's job, he had to go to England and Scotland sometimes. Maybe it was like that. He smiled and nodded, taking another bite of his food.

Suddenly his phone rang. It was Francis. Oh, no, that probably wasn't good. He tentatively answered. "H-hello, Papa." Maybe if he didn't let on that he had left the house at about 11 on a school night, he wouldn't be found out. "Mathieu, where are you?" his papa asked him. Shit. "Uh, my room, Papa." "Then will you open your door?" Shiiiit. "I'm not actually in my room, Papa." He heard Francis laugh on the other end lightly. "I did not think that you were, Mathieu. Where are you?" "I, uh, went down the street to my friend Gilbert's house. But it wasn't me! It was Hockey Matt! I came to try and get his little brother to join my team, and we got carried away-" "Well, do come home now, or will I have to tell Arthur?" Oh, no. Arthur would blow the whole thing out of proportion. "N-no, Papa, please don't tell Dad. I'll be right home." Francis laughed again. "I won't tell him a thing, Mathieu. But do hurry home, and I would advise going back in through your window. Arthur is in the kitchen. Bonne nuit," Francis said, and hung up.

Matt grabbed his hockey stick and looked at Gil. "Sorry, I, uh- That was my Papa, and he's figured out I'm gone, and I really have to go before he tells my dad and he grounds me from hockey or something. I'll see you guys later, and Ludwig, you and me are going to have some serious words about joining this hockey team, okay?" He let out a last nervous laugh before he dashed out the door, leaving Gil and Ludwig alone.

Matt was having issues with school. It was nearly October, the end of one semester, and it totally wasn't even his fault that his grades were so bad. Mrs. Edelstein was probably the worst chemistry teacher ever, and, not to be racist, but, he couldn't understand a thing Mr. Wang was saying over his accent, and Alfred wouldn't help him at all with his math in the class. He was always too busy sending death glares to Ivan, who shared the class with them. Euro went way too fast, and APUSH just had so much shit to cover! He was doing well in his language classes, obviously, but he was barely maintaining a C average in the rest of them. He really needed to get some sort of help.

But, hockey came first. Obviously. Matt had convinced Ludwig to join, and had somehow bullied Gilbert into signing up, too. He'd have to have some one-on-one teaching with the albino, but at this point, Matt didn't care. He had 8 people on his team, and he was ready to see how they were doing. He rented an ice rink for an afternoon, and happily let the sign-ups show off their skills.

Ivan was as good as Matthew had dreamed he would be (not to be creepy or anything.) The Russian was fast, and agile, but at the same time, he was big enough to have a great physical presence on the ice. A rough check he delivered to Matthew that almost flipped him head over heels proved that Ivan was the offense they had been looking for. Ludwig, though shakier on the ice, packed just as much of a punch as Ivan. Berwald and Tino, the two seniors Matt had never heard of, made great defensemen, especially Tino. As much as Matt tried, he could not get the puck anywhere near the net when Tino was on the ice. Mathias was goalie, as he had always been through the years he and Matt were playing. Matt would play offense. That just left finding a place for Gil, but first, Matt had to teach him. A lot.

Matt decided he would be the best to teach Gilbert to skate, though both Ludwig and Ivan offered to. Matt had been skating longer than any of them. Grabbing Gilbert's hands, ignoring a strange feeling he felt in his chest, he pulled a protesting Gilbert out onto the ice.

"Uh, Mattie, I don't think this is the best idea-" Gilbert argued, but Matt cut him off. "Nonsense, Gil. Skating is easy. It's just like walking." He tried to sound soothing, but seemed to just upset Gilbert more. "Yeah, you could skate before you could walk, you fucking crazy frog Pepsi Canuck hoser-" Gilbert's line of profanity got louder and more creative when Matt let go of his hands. Matt looked shocked. He had never even heard some of those insults. What the fuck was a Pepsi? If anyone was a Pepsi, it was Alfred. Matt took it in stride. "If you think I'm a frog, wait til you meet my Papa. Now, skate to me." Matt skated off backwards a few meters away.

Gilbert tried, and fell flat on his face.

"Fuck you, and fuck your hockey and poutine and maple syrup-" Why the hell does Gilbert know this much about Canadian culture? Oh well. "Come on, Gil. Get back on the horse. My maple syrup and poutine didn't make you fall. Skate to me." Matt helped Gil up then skated back a few steps.

And Gil fell again. So Matt brought out the big guns. He skated over to where Ivan was skating, and brought him over to Gil.

"Okay, Gil, we're both gonna help you out this time." Matt smiled. He let Ivan show a few things to Gilbert, and let go of him. "Okay, now you can skate to me." Ivan said, and Gilbert took off. He made it a little further this time, before falling on his ass again, though he didn't go on a tirade about how it was vodka and borscht that made him fall. Must be the fact that Ivan was at least twice Matt's size.

Matt sighed. He wanted to keep teaching Gil, but his 2 hours he had rented the rink for were running out. "Okay, we're gonna try again next time, Gil. Time's up. But we'll get you skating, okay?" He helped Gil up and linked his arm in his, and helped him slowly make it to where the other guys were skating. "Okay guys, you're all great, you're all on the team, if we can get one going. Hopefully we can get the school convinced, if not, hey, we can rent out the rink like once a month and play. We're out of time for today though, so I'll see you all later." Matt said to the team, and helped Gilbert off the ice.

"I think it's my eyes, Mattie. Because I can barely see enough to walk. I can give you a list of eye problems I have, and none of them are fun." Gil complained once he was out of his skates and back into his boots. "Well, you should get contacts." Matt replied. "I totally can't. I have nystagmus, that's why my eyes are so shaky, I'm sure you've noticed. I'm supposed to wear glasses for astigmatism but it's so hard to find a prescription! I'm like, legally blind. It's not awesome." Gil said, somewhat dejectedly. Matt, being terrible at comforting people, awkwardly patted his back and smiled at the albino, and they made their way outside the rink.

"Hey, do you think you could give me a ride to my house? I think Ludwig already got picked up by his friend. Feliciano, I think. And Opa's in Denmark, so I'm kind of stuck here." Gil asked. Matt smiled. "Sure, I don't know when my papa will be here though. He's always running late." Matt said. They sat outside the rink for a good 30 minutes before Matt decided to call Francis and see where he was. "Bonjour," Francis answered after a few rings. "Bonjour, Papa, uh, where are you?" Matt heard a sharp intake of air on the other end of the line. "I was supposed to get you, wasn't I?" Francis asked guiltily. "Yeah, Papa. A friend of mine, too." Matt replied. He wished he would have asked Arthur to pick him up. He may be closer to Francis, but Arthur was definitely the more responsible of the two. "Oh, merde. I cannot get away from work until 6, do you think you could call Arthur and see if he could get you? Je suis tres desole, Mathieu." Matt sighed. "C'est n'est pas grave. Je vais telephoner Dad." He heard Francis laugh. "Bien. Au revoir, Mathieu." "Au revoir, Papa."

"So, I don't speak French, is he getting us or what?" Gilbert asked. "No, uh, he can't get away from work." Matt replied. "So call your mom, and have her get us." Gil said. "My whole body is in pain after all that damn falling. Us albinos are fragile, ja?"

So, Matt still hadn't told Gilbert about his whole, two dads thing. He doubted the German would care, but, he really didn't like to take the risk with new people, especially new people he could honestly call a friend. Last time he told someone about his two dads, it completely ruined any type of friendship between them. He really didn't want that to be the case with Gilbert, but there seemed to be no way to get around it at this point.

"I uh, don't have a mom, but I can call my Dad, eh." Matt said, nervous. "Didn't you just call your dad? What, is he going to get us a cab?" Gil laughed. "No, I, uh called my Papa. Francis. Now I'm calling my dad. Arthur, eh." Matt could punch himself. Why was he even worried about telling Gil this? He couldn't possibly care about something as trivial as Matt having gay dads. Hopefully.

Gil didn't miss a beat. "Ooooh, I got ya! Why are you looking so nervous, did you think I'd be upset about you having 2 dads? I'm gay too, Mattie, you don't have anything to worry about there." Oh thank god- wait, Gil was gay? Matt surely looked bewildered, and Gil caught on. "Ja, have you not noticed? It was never the big deal to me or Opa. Ludwig is too, that's why we took him from my actual family." Gil smiled. Matt breathed out a sigh of relief. "I'm just glad you won't freak out about my family. I'll call Dad and have him get us soon."

Except, Arthur couldn't manage to get them for another hour. Instead of sitting around on their asses for an hour, the two decided to explore a nearby shopping center. It had the same boring stuff; clothes stores, sport shops, outdoor shops, but Gilbert nearly had a heart attack when he saw there was a PetSmart, taking Matt by his arm and dragging him into it. He pulled the Canadian to the birds, and grinned. "I think I'm gonna start calling you Birdie."

"What the hell, Gil? Why?" Matt asked. He really didn't understand half the nicknames Gilbert gave people. "Because I saw you on the ice today, and you definitely remind me of a bird. You're small and inconspicuous, but you could totally gouge someone's eyes out." Gilbert laughed. "Mein gott, I had to leave my bird in Germany. Do you think Opa would notice if I spent 200 dollars of mine and Lud's food money on a new one?" Gilbert seemed in deep thought for a moment. "Ah, who cares if he does? He won't be here long enough to be angry!"

Gil called for an employee to get him a bird out; he chose a yellow canary. He bought the bird and a cage for it, and grinned. Matt held in a laugh at him. "You shut your mouth, Canuck, I fucking love birds." Matt just rolled his eyes and walked outside with Gil, hoping Arthur would get there soon.

He had stopped hoping that when his father pulled up in his black SUV and Matt had to explain to his dad while there was a German albino with a canary getting into his car. "This is uh, Gilbert Beilschmidt. He just moved here from Germany, and I guess he's my, uh, friend. His brother was trying out for the hockey team but he kind of left Gilbert without a ride. He just lives down the road from us." Matt explained to his father, but he still looked puzzled. "That's all well and good, but, why does he have a bird?" Arthur quietly asked his son. "We were at PetSmart. He wanted a bird, who am I to stop him?" Matt asked. Arthur shrugged, and started to drive.

"I have the most awesome name ever for him. Gilbird. What do you think, Birdie?" Gil asked when they were halfway home. Matt laughed. "You're fucking kidding me, right? God, Gil, never change." "I'm being serious! Don't you think it's clever?" Gilbert asked, looking slightly hurt. "It's clever, yeah, but, really, Gilbird?" Matt tried to keep his laughter in. "Well I'm calling him Gilbird and there's nothing you can do about it." Gilbert said defiantly, and the bird chirped, as if in agreement.

Soon Arthur got to Gil's house, and dropped him off. Within a few minutes, he and Matt were at home. Almost immediately, Arthur turned to Matthew. "I don't mean this in a bad way, but, what was wrong with him?" the Brit asked. "Why, you mean because he named his bird Gilbird?" Matt asked, going around his father and flopping on the couch. "No, I mean, his eyes! They were all shaky." Arthur questioned his son. "Shit, he told me what it was, earlier today. He can't control his eye movement. And then, he has astigmatism, too. Albinos generally just have shitty eyes. He's legally blind." Matt replied, turning on the TV. Arthur let out a 'hmmm' and a promise to tell his eye doctor friend. Matt had zoned out by then, tuned into the TV, enjoying the burn of his muscles as he stretched out. It had been way too long since he had played hockey.

That night, Matt had a crisis.

It started when he thought about how Gil casually let it slip that he was gay,. At first it wasn't anything big, but after thinking about that, he was reminded of the weird feeling he got when he held Gil's hand on the ice, and he tried to ignore the nervous blush he felt creep up his face. Dear god, no. He didn't want to like Gil like that.

It's not that he had any issue with liking guys. With his parents, it would be weird if he had an issue with that. Matt had known he was bi since elementary school. No, Matt didn't want to like Gil because Matt knew that there was no way that Gil would ever like him back. Nobody liked the weird, shy, awkward Canadian that was Matthew Williams.

Little did Matt know, Gilbert was sitting in his room, complaining to Gilbird that Matt could never like the gross-looking, German albino that was Gilbert Beilschmidt.


	4. Chapter 4

Few things could make Matt mad. This was why his parents were shocked when Matt walked into the house the next day after school, slammed the door, and threw his bag on the ground. "What's the matter, son?" Arthur asked. "They won't let us start a hockey team, eh!" He yelled to them. "They said there wasn't enough in the budget to rent out the ice rink 4 times a week, even though there was plenty enough in it to build an entirely new football field! And the worst part is, none of the other guys would even back me up. Like, Ivan just said fuck it and went to join the football team. I bet Alfred is gonna be really pissed about that, they have it out for each other. Je ne peux pas croire que ces putains de hosers muets…" Matt finished his rant, mumbling in French.

"Well, Francis, you know I can't understand him when he gets like this. Go, comfort your son, be a good father." Arthur said, shooing his husband after Matthew.

"Mathieu, come now. Do not be so upset about this." Francis said in French, putting his arm around his son. "But this was my only chance to play hockey!" Matt complained in his native language. "Mathieu, I would learn to play hockey with you if it would make you happy. And I'm sure you could convince some of the boys who signed up with you to play from time to time, no?" Matt sighed. "I guess you're right."

Two hours later, when Alfred came home, slamming the door and throwing his bag on the ground, complaining about the 'big commie who just joined the football team,' Francis laughed, and turned to Arthur. "Come now, cher, I cannot understand him when he gets like this."

At least with no hockey team, Matt could focus on his grades. He thought this to himself as he walked into his Italian class. He sat down, and Feliciano Vargas, grandson of the class's teacher, Mr. Vargas, sat next to him. "Ludwig told me about your hockey team! I'm really sorry about that!" Feliciano looked genuinely upset about it. "Oh, thank you, eh." Feliciano smiled and sat next to him. "He also told me that you took Gilbert skating! That would be a funny thing to see," he said happily. "Yeah, it was pretty funny. He kept falling on his face all the time." Matt smiled.

He liked Feliciano. He was sweet and always talked to Matthew whenever he got the chance. Even when his angry twin brother was with him, he always looked delighted to see Matthew.

Speak of the devil, his angry twin brother came in the room right about then, and pulled Feliciano to their assigned seats (though they were only a few seats away, since it was alphabetical, and 'Vargas' was pretty close to 'Williams,) and class began.

After that class, Matthew went down the hall to US History. At the beginning of the year, he grumbled about the class and wished he could be in a Canadian History, but his inner history buff wouldn't let him be upset about being in a history class for too long. The fact that they had an awesome teacher helped Matt out a lot. But today, Mrs. Smith had done something unforgivable; she had assigned a group project.

If someone were to ask Matt what he hated most about school, he could confidently answer 'group projects.' He always had a knack for getting placed with people he hated, or couldn't talk around (which was 95% of the student body, but still.) His hate for them rivaled his hate for the Toronto Maple Leafs and the heel piece of bread. Thankfully, he had Al as his partner, but that still meant Matt would be doing 75% of the work. Well at least he could talk to his partner now.

He was coming to terms with the fact that he actually still had to do group projects his junior year, when Ivan walked over to his and Al's table. "Hello, Matvey. Is it possible I could join your group? Mrs. Smith said up to three people, and I do not know any others in this class." The Russian asked. Matt smiled and said, "Sure!" while Al let out an exasperated groan. Ivan chose to ignore it. "Wonderful! I am very happy you will be letting me join. I promise, I will be a hard worker." Ivan beamed, and Mrs. Smith gave them their assignment: a poster and an essay about the main points of the chapters they had already covered. Apparently there would be one of these projects due every week. Man, that sucked. At least Matt could take solace in the fact that Ivan being in their group would piss off Al, and that would be fun to watch.

Matt didn't know what Al's problem with Ivan was. Ivan didn't seem to have any sort of problem with Al, but Alfred _hated_ Ivan. Whenever Matt asked, Al always complained that Ivan was a communist (and Ivan, being one of Matt's few friends, was most definitely not a communist.) He never said anything more than that. Maybe this project could finally get Al's secret out.

Matt was barely out of school before his phone vibrated in his pocket. Thinking it was Alfred saying he had football, Matt pulled it out to complain. But the text was from Gilbert, who hadn't been at school that day.

_Hey, wanna hang out?_

Matt didn't know what to say. He hadn't actually hung out with Gil since the day they went to PetSmart, and Matt was cool with that. He wasn't someone who really liked hanging out with people. He was cool hanging out at home, eating and watching TV. He was about to decline, in favor of going home to, you know, eat and watch TV, when Gil sent him another text.

_Come onnnn we're totally partying tonight its gonna rage we want u here birdie_

Woah, a party? Matt had never been invited to a party. Images of getting drunk, and smoking pot flashed through Matt's head. He wasn't totally innocent, he had done those things with Al and a few of his friends on occasion, and he definitely wanted to do them again, even though he could go home and eat and watch TV. Plus a party might make him even more friends than just Gil and Ivan. Matt smiled slightly as he texted Gil back.

_Sure thing. Am I going to your house?_

_Nonono stay right in front of the school me and my friend are gonna pick u up_

_Okay!_

He quickly texted Gil back, and waited for his pick up. And he waited. And waited. And waited. Almost 30 minutes later, when Matt was about to start walking home, an old-looking red car pulled up in front of him. Gil grinned at him from a rolled down window and motioned for him to get in, which was easier said than done. The car was full to bursting. Gil, Ludwig, Feliciano, Feliciano's angry twin, and a driver Matt didn't know were all squeezed into a pretty compact car. Finally managing to squeeze between Gilbert and the window, they drove off.

"Hey, it's Matthew!" Feliciano exclaimed when Matt got in the car. Gil smirked at him. "Ja, it is! Birdie, you obviously know Feli, so you probably know Lovi." Gil said to Matt. "Don't fucking call me Lovi! My name is Lovino." the angry twin yelled. So that's what his name was. Gil put up his hands, and kept talking. "The driver is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Fucking mouthful, isn't it? Call him Toni" Antonio turned around to smile and shake Matt's hand, but Lovino smacked him, pretty hard, telling him to keep his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. "Dios mio, Lovi, I'm sorry! I just wanted to say hello to our new friend!" Antonio exclaimed.

"If he can't fucking call me Lovi, neither can you! And I've known him since the beginning of the year, so he's not a new friend." Lovino huffed. Gil laughed as the two argued and Matt nervously followed suit. Even though he knew most of the people in the car, he was beginning to have second thoughts about a party with them. He didn't know them _that _well. What if they didn't like him? He didn't have anymore time to think about it, as Antonio stopped the car in front of Gil's house. "Well, let's get this party started!" Gilbert chuckled as they all got out of the car.

'Calm down, Matt. It'll be fine.' Matt told himself as he went towards the house. It was just a regular old party.

But then again, nothing was regular when Gilbert was involved, and apparently Matt's idea of a party was way off. He thought he would be getting turnt up by now, but it had been 15 minutes, and the only thing that had happened was Gilbert broke out Mario Kart, and was playing it with Antonio, Lovino and Feli. Ludwig had gone off somewhere, and Matt was just sitting awkwardly watching them play.

"Stop fucking aiming your bananas at me, Toni!" Lovino yelled after slipping over a banana for a 5th time. Gilbert snickered and threw his banana at Lovino. He groaned in frustration. "Who the fuck even picked Rainbow Road?!" Lovino yelled, and Matt couldn't help but laugh, which earned him a glare from Lovino, and made Matt shut up.

A few minutes later, with Lovino in last place, Ludwig came up from the basement with two large cases of beer. "I told you I would find Opa's stash, Bruder," he called, throwing a can to Gilbert. "Great! Now we can really start the party." He smiled, and opened his can, and Ludwig handed one to Matt. "Uh, won't your grandpa be pissed if he comes home and his underage grandsons drank his beer?" Matt asked the Germans.

"Birdie, are you forgetting we're German? Opa could care less if we're drinking beer, he's been letting us drink since we were 14. He wouldn't leave it here if he didn't want us to drink it." Gil said, taking a drink from his can. Matt shrugged and opened his can. His dads let him drink wine, must be a European thing. He took a sip, cringing at the flavor. Matt hated beer, but alcohol was alcohol, and he didn't want his German friends thinking less of him.

"Ugh, Ludwig, beer is disgusting! I'd rather have wine." Feli exclaimed, obviously not having the same fears Matt did. Gil snorted. "Psh, Italians!" He laughed harder when he saw the pained look on Antonio's face as he drank his beer. "And Spaniards and the French too!" Gil exclaimed. "You Western Europeans can't even handle beer. Mein Gott, Germans are totally the master race!" Gil laughed, but Matt caught the look of horror on Ludwig's face. "Bruder… You may want to think about what you just said." He said quietly to his older brother, who's eyes went wide. "Scheiße, I did not mean for that to sound so Hitler-esque. All our new friends probably think we're Nazis now."

There was a moment of tense silence before everyone in the room started to laugh. "Dios Mio, Gil. If you're a Nazi, then I'm fascist with these Italian dorks!" Antonio laughed, and put his arms around the Vargas twins. "We aren't even fucking Italian! Grandpa is, we're fucking American. And you aren't Spanish either." Lovino huffed, but Antonio ignored him, taking another drink of his beer.

Matt smiled and drank from his too, hoping to get drunk soon so he could stop caring about the taste. He finished his can and grabbed another, and chugged it. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, and Matt liked it. It had been way too long since he had gotten drunk. 2 more beers, and he was pleasantly drunk. Gilbert and Ludwig seemed to be a little more sober than him, but Matt giggled when he saw how drunk Lovino and Feli were, and Antonio joined him. "Ha, you two are lightweights!" he laughed, putting his arm around Lovino, who surprisingly didn't shove it off. Feli smiled. "Yeah, we're smaller than you!" He exclaimed, and Lovino came back with a, "Plus we aren't used to drinking this piss." Matt sipped at his 5th beer, barely noticing Gilbert putting his arm around Matt's shoulders.

"Come on now, just because you aren't used to it doesn't mean it's piss, Lovi." Gil laughed, leaning on Matt. "Birdie didn't like it at first, now he's drinking it just fine! What, are you on 6 now? You're a tiny little thing, you must be smashed by now." He smirked, slurring his words slightly. Matt just laughed. He wasn't _that_ drunk. He opened his mouth to say that, but he couldn't manage to say anything but "Nah, eh," in a slur. Okay, maybe he was drunk.

"Hey, Birdie, come on outside. The fresh air will do you good." Gil said, leading a stumbling Matthew out his back door and onto his porch, and sat down on a bench with him. The brisk October air hit him hard, and would have knocked him over if Gil wasn't holding him tight. Speaking of Gil, Matt was becoming painfully aware of how close the albino was to him, and even more painfully aware of how gorgeous he looked, even paler under the moon.

Gilbert broke the silence with a laugh. "Have you ever even been drunk before, Birdie?" He asked. Matt giggled again. "Of course I have, eh. I got drunk and high with Al and his friend Toris before. A few times. Just never drank this much before." A cold breeze swept by, and Matt curled into Gilbert before he knew what he was doing. He stayed close to him after he did it, because, why not? Gil was warm. "You know, you look like you'd be cold… but you're really warm Gilbert." Matt said, closing his eyes. "People say that all the time," Gil responded, smiling at the blonde curled at his side, and ran his hands through his curly hair.


	5. Chapter 5

Matt wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he woke up a few hours later to his phone buzzing in his pocket, his head on Gilbert's lap. The albino was snoring softly above him. Matt rose up, his head throbbing slightly from the beers he had, and saw that it was Francis calling, and that it was around 1 AM. "Mmm, bonjour, Papa." Matt answered sleepily. "Oh, dieu merci. Arthur, I've got him! Mathieu, why the hell have you not answered your phone the past few hours?!" Francis snapped. "I was sleeping, Papa, I told you I was going to a friend's house-" "Is Alfred with you?" Arthur had the phone now, and wasted no time with helloes.

"No, he had football practice then should have went home, I don't know where he would be." Matt replied, waking up now. "Bloody hell," he heard Arthur whisper. "Why 'bloody hell,' did Al not come home? He does that a lot, Dad, don't worry-" Matt heard fumbling on the other end of the line, and Francis was back on the phone again. "Have you not heard?" the Frenchman asked. "Papa, you should know by now I am so out of the loop it's not funny. What happened?" Matt asked, feeling Gilbert stir beside him. "Mrs. Laurinaitis called me, you know her son Toris, Alfred's teammate? She said Toris and several other players were in a very bad car accident. She didn't know if Alfred was hurt yet or not, but… Oh, mon dieu… We're going to check the hospital. We'll let you know about Alfred, d'accord?" Before Matt could get a word out, Francis hung up.

Gil was awake now, but Matt was in shock. No, there was no way. Al couldn't be hurt, Al was always the strong one, he never got hurt. Al was the _hero_, god damn it. He couldn't get hurt by a dumb car accident. Matt felt Gil hug him from the side and lean his head on his shoulder. "Hey Birdie," he whispered, voice slightly raspy, but Matt didn't answer.

"Earth to Matt? Did you forget how to talk? Are you hungover? Toni has a great hangover cure if you are-" Gil asked, head still on Matt's shoulder. Matt snapped to attention, pushing out of Gil's grasp. "No, I'm- I'm fine. And not hungover, I'm fine. Look, is Toni good to drive?" he asked, looking Gil in his red eyes. He pouted a bit, and replied, "Probably, if not, I can risk our lives and drive my blind ass wherever you want me to go. What's wrong, Birdie?" "I think Al is hurt. Papa called me and said some kids from the football team were in an accident, and Al hasn't come home yet. So they think- oh God, Gil, I just need to get to the hospital, NOW-"

Gil cut him off. "Shh, shh. It'll be okay, Birdie. Let's go get Toni up and we can get to the hospital, alright?" Matt nodded, feeling his eyes getting teary. Gil reached out and grabbed Matt's hand, and lead him to the door. "Let's go get up Toni." Gil said, giving Matt a reassuring smile.

But that was easier said than done. Gil tried everything he knew to get Antonio up, but he seemed to be straight up passed out. The rest of the guys were asleep as well, and if the two empty cases of beer were anything to go by, none of them would be up in the next few hours. Gil groaned. "Okay, I'm probably gonna make homeroom a living hell for us by doing this, but, fuck it. I'm gonna call Roddy and have him drive us to the hospital, okay? He told me to call him in emergencies and this is totally an emergency." Gil said, pulling out his phone and typing a number in.

Matt heard a few rings, and, thank God, Mr. Edelstein picked up. He heard the faint, but undoubtedly pissed off Mr. Edelstein speaking in German on Gil's phone. Gil replied in German, and, damn it, they were going to have the whole conversation in German, weren't they? Matt felt anxiety prick at every nerve in his body. He wanted to at least know if he was going to be able to get a ride, but no. Damn language barriers. Matt heard Gilbert say his name, and the other line went quiet. He heard a 'ja,' and a few other words he couldn't make out, but Gilbert's grin was unmistakable. Gil quickly said a few more words Matt didn't understand, and hung up.

"He'll be here in about 5 minutes. Call your dads and make sure your brother is actually in the hospital, ja? I'm sure Roddy will be pissed if he drives us out there and he's not admitted." Gil said and Matt nodded. Matt unlocked his phone and called Francis, who answered immediately. "Is he okay, Papa?" Matt asked. He heard a sigh on the other side. "I do not know. He is in ICU in the next town over. We're driving over now, we'll come get you in the morning, okay?" Francis responded, his voice sounding watery. "Non, uh, my friend's giving me a ride there. I'll meet you there. Is he in Saint Mary's?" "Yes." "Okay. I'll see you there Papa." Matt said and hung up the phone.

Matt looked at Gil. "He's in Saint Mary's, the next town over. Tell Mr. Edelstein that when he gets here, okay?" Gil nodded, and sat down. "Mein Gott, is your brother okay?" Matt bit his lip and looked down. "Papa doesn't know. He's in the ICU, and… oh god please, he has to be okay." He said, feeling tears starting to stream down his face. Gil stood back up, and lifted Matt's head up. He wiped at his tears and gave him an empathetic look. "Come on now, Birdie. You've gotta be strong. I've never met the kid but you make him sound like a trooper when you talk about him. Didn't you say he once broke his collarbone playing football and he finished the game?" Matt nodded. "See, any guy like that should pull through anything. He'll be fine, I promise you." Matt wanted to open his mouth and say, no, you don't know Alfred, you have no idea what you're talking about, but he couldn't. He couldn't say anything.

A car pulled up a few minutes later, and Gilbert pulled him outside. Sitting in Gilbert's driveway was a very tired-looking Mr. Edelstein in his red Prius. Gil ushered Matt into the back seat and sat next to him. "I'm really sorry about making you do this, Roderich," Gil said, putting his arm around Matthew. "It's an emergency."

"No, it's fine. You are family, after all. And Matthew is one of my favorite students. It's really no problem," Edelstein said, pulling out of the driveway. Weird, he never acted like Matt was one of his favorites. "He's at Saint Mary's, Mr. Edelstein." Matt said sheepishly as they got onto the freeway. Edelstein nodded. "Matthew, please, we are in a casual setting. You don't have to call me Mr. Edelstein. I can be Roderich for the night." Matt nodded back, and the car was silent, except for the soft classical music on the radio.

All too soon they were in the parking lot for Saint Mary's. Matt took a deep breath as Edelstein parked his car, and the three got out. "Roderich, you don't have to come in with us. You can go home." Gil said, and Edelstein shook his head. "No. I'll stay with you until Matthew finds his fathers." Neither of the teens fought back, and the three of them walked inside. Matthew went up to the desk, and spoke to the receptionist.

"Is Alfred Jones here?" he asked. "Yes, but he's in ICU. You can't see him right now." She said. Matt sighed. "Well, okay, have you seen my dads come in? A French dude and a British dude?" The receptionist shook her head. "Well thanks anyways," Matt said, voice slightly sarcastic, and he took a seat. He pulled out his phone and called his papa. "Are you here?" Matt asked. "Yes, in the waiting room at the ICU." Matt nodded, even though he knew Francis couldn't see it, and hung up without a goodbye. He grabbed Gilbert by his arm and took him to the elevator, Roderich following behind them.

Matt knew his way around Saint Mary's. Arthur had been in the ICU before, for a critical illness, and Matt had spent far too much time in the hospital. He happily would have never set foot in the place again, but things in life were never that easy, and Matt wasn't that lucky. The trio got in the elevator, and the ride up took forever, and was awkwardly silent. Matt was biting his lip hard, trying not to cry in front of his best friend and his teacher. It was starting to hit Matt that his brother, the person that was always there for him, was in Intensive Care, could be _dying…_

When the elevator opened and he saw Francis and Arthur sitting in the waiting room, holding each other's hands with a white knuckled grip, eyes red from crying, Matthew let his tears fall. He ran over to sit with them, hoping they knew something about his brother's condition. The looks that Francis and Arthur gave him told Matt that, no, they didn't know a thing. Matt let out a wavering sigh and sat in a chair next to them, Gil soon following suit. Seeing that Matt and Gil were taken care of, Mr. Edelstein got back onto the elevator, and left them in the waiting room.

"So, do you guys know anything?" Gil asked after a long period of silence. "He's in surgery. They said they would update us but they haven't told us a bloody thing. God damn them," Arthur said softly, still grasping Francis's hand. Francis shook his head. "All we know is that he was in the wreck. We barely managed to get that out of them," he sighed. Matt nodded, and leaned back in his chair. This was going to be a seriously long few hours.


	6. Chapter 6

(**Just a quick A/N before I start**: Thanks everyone who follows and favorites and reviews. I know there isn't a lot, and I know my story is garbage. But thanks, you all are the reason I keep posting this. Things should start speeding up from here.)

Matt had fallen asleep in the chair, his head leaned on Gilbert's shoulder. Gil gently shook him awake when the doctor came out of the ICU, saying that it was okay for the family to visit Alfred now. Passing Gil off as another adopted child, they made their way to Al's bed. Matt tried not to gawk at his brother, but it was hard not to. He looked broken, and small, and as pale as Gilbert. Matt barely noticed Gil gripping his hand tightly; he was too far gone. He felt tears streaming down his face but he couldn't move to wipe at them. Matt stood still, in shock, and his dads weren't much better off.

"Oh, merde, Alfred..." Francis whispered, apparently the only one who could talk in the group. He brushed a stray piece of hair out of Alfred's face, mindful of a bandage wrapped around his head. Merde was right. Alfred looked like shit. His face-no, his whole body was bruised severely, and he had several casts and bandages and stitches all over his body. Normally Matt would have made a joke around now, something like, 'Ha, now I'm the hot brother!' but he couldn't. Alfred stirred slightly in his bed, and Arthur looked ready to cry.

"He's lucky, Mr. Jones." A doctor said to Francis. "Bonnefoy-Kirkland," Francis snapped. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland. He broke his back, and several other bones, had a severe concussion, and a fair amount of blood-loss. Luckily there's no signs of brain damage, or paralysis. He's going to need a lot of physical rehabilitation, but he's going to make a full recovery. I think we can get him out of ICU and into a room as soon as you're ready."

Francis hugged Arthur tightly, and Matt did the same with Gil. The surprised albino quickly hugged Matt back, and whispered, "See, told you he would pull through," in his ear. Matt smiled breathily and nodded, still unable to say anything. He was just so happy.

Soon, Alfred was moved out of ICU. It was a lot better on the family, being in an actual room with Alfred instead of the waiting room. Alfred didn't move much, or really do much of anything, but they could still actually _see_ him, and the doctors said he should be up within a few hours.

But a few hours in a hospital room is as much as a day outside of one, Matt soon found out. After almost 30 minutes of being cooped up in the room with his dads and Gilbert, Matt was ready to get out. It was depressing, just watching Alfred, waiting for him to wake up. Gilbert understood, and woke up a very hungover Antonio at 7 AM to come and pick them up. Matt could hear cursing in Spanish all the way from Gil's phone, but Gil assured Matt that Antonio was definitely coming to get them. Matt told his parents he needed to get out for a while, and went outside to wait with Gilbert.

The two were quiet while waiting for Antonio. Matt was, understandably, exhausted, and Gilbert was too, but Gilbert hated to sit in silence. "You know, I know exactly how you're feeling right now, Matt. I spent a lot of time in a hospital before I left for America." He said, looking at the ground. "Why was that?" Matt asked. Gil smiled, kicking at some rocks. "My little brother. Not Ludwig, but, a younger one. He used to get sick a lot. And I mean… a lot. Ludwig and Opa and I were in the hospital at least once a week with him. That's how Ludwig and I started teaching ourselves English, they always had these magazines in the waiting room in English, and we used to go buy the German version in the gift shop and translate them, you know? Anyways, we always just thought he just had a bad immune system or something. Everyone did. We were in a shitty small town in ex-Soviet East Germany. The doctors had been there since Brezhnev and half the town couldn't tell you what cancer even was… We took him to a good doctor, in Berlin, one day and he saw what was wrong right away. He… He had leukemia. Really bad leukemia. They gave him a few months to live. Do you know how heartbreaking it is, telling an 8 year old kid that he was gonna die in a few months?" Gil's eyes were watering, and he wiped at a stray tear.

"Gil… I'm so sorry, I don't even know what to say…" Matt said, putting an arm around Gil. "Nein, it's alright. He- Roman. His name was Roman… He didn't even make it the few months they gave him. They gave him until October. He was supposed to die this month… He didn't even make it to May. Opa took us to America after his funeral. He was going to take us before Roman got sick, but, no offense, your healthcare system isn't as good as Germany's." Gil said, sighing. Matt nodded in agreement. "Don't have to tell me twice, I'm Canadian." And it was silent again.

"I really am sorry about your brother, Gil. I know it isn't the same, but my mom died of cancer too. A few years after she had me." Matt said, trying to make the situation less tense. Gil nodded, and reached into his jacket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Want one?" he asked Matt, who nodded. They moved to the parking lot and lit them. "We both have family members who died of cancer, and here we are, smoking outside of a hospital. We're total assholes, Birdie." He said, exhaling smoke and laughing. Matt laughed and nodded too. "Life's too short to not be an asshole," he replied, taking a drag.


	7. Chapter 7

The nicotine was helping calm Matt down a lot. As he smoked more of his bummed cigarette, he found it easier to breathe and talk. Ironic. They sat around smoking until they reached the butts, and moved back in front of the door to wait for Toni. "Jesus, I think we could have walked back to your house by now. Damn Spaniards are lazy as hell." Gil idly said. Matt nodded, the effects of the nicotine wearing off and his anxiety creeping back up on him. He just wanted to get away from the hospital and get home for a while. He'd pick up a few things for his family and come back once Al was awake. He didn't want to watch his unconscious brother for hours. It was a mixture of creepy and depressing, and Matt didn't like that feeling.

After what seemed like ages, Antonio finally pulled up in front of Gil and Matt. They quickly jumped into his car, and soon they were speeding back towards their town. "Dios mio… Is your brother okay, Matt?" Antonio asked, his voice lacking a lot of the energy and playfulness it had last night. "The doctors say he's gonna wake up soon, and that he'll be fine once he's healed. Thanks for coming and getting us," Matt said softly.

Antonio shot a smile at Matt. "It's no problem. I had to fix up some hangover cure for a couple cranky half Italians anyways. How did you all even get here anyways?" he asked. "I totally made Roddy drive us out here at 1 in the morning," Gil snickered. Antonio laughed incredulously. "Seriously? That old man has such a stick up his ass, how did you do that?" "Not sure. I think he has a soft spot for Matt." Gil smiled.

"So where am I taking you all?" Antonio asked once they were back in town. Matt had been looking out the window, and didn't seem to be paying attention, so Gil answered for him. "Matt's house. It's pretty close to mine. I'll show you how to get there." He said, and Matt showed no signs that he was paying attention at all, even as they drove into his neighborhood. Once the car stopped in front of his house, Gil had to shake Matt to attention, making him jump.

They two said goodbye to Antonio, and went up to the door. Matt turned the knob, only to find it locked. He groaned. "Ugh. The one time they lock it." He muttered to himself and went around to his window, Gil following. He knew that would be unlocked; he and Al had broken the lock on it playing Army Men when they were 10. He opened the window, and pulled himself into his room, his body complaining after all those hours sleeping in a hospital chair. Gil followed suit, and they stood awkwardly in Matt's room.

Gil, as always, broke the silence. "Nice room, Matt. I wish I could see it better." He said and laughed. Matt smiled and plopped down on his bed. "God, this bed feels great." He sighed. Gil was suddenly at his side. "Oh, you're right. That damn hospital chair has killed my back." He said, letting out a groan and popping his back. Matt let out a yawn, and was asleep before he knew what had happened.

He woke up with a groan several hours later, jumping back as he realized he was cuddled against someone, and that someone was _Gilbert._ He heard the albino let out a sleepy laugh, and Matt cringed. Gil had been awake, and _knew_ Matt was holding onto him like a German teddy bear. He felt his cheeks get warm, and did the only thing he knew to do.

He hid his head under his blanket, cringing even harder. This just made Gil laugh again. "Oh come on Birdie. Get out from under there." Before he knew it, the blanket was pulled off of him. He looked up to see Gil smiling wide. "How long was I asleep for?" Matt asked sheepishly. "About ten hours." Gil replied. "And, uh, how long was I… on you like that, eh?" Matt asked, looking away. Gil laughed. "You were like that when I woke up an hour ago." "And you didn't wake me up to move?" Matt contemplated going back under the blanket. This was embarrassing. He had fallen asleep on Gil before, but he had never cuddled the albino before.

"You looked too cute too move! Plus I know how tired you must have been after sitting in that hospital for so long." Gil smiled at Matt. "Cute?" Matt asked incredulously before he knew what he was doing. Gil just smiled bigger. "Yeah, Birdie. There's no way I could have disturbed you. Cutie." Gil smirked. Matt's face turned blood red.

"E-eh?" He really couldn't say much else. This just made Gil laugh. "Oh, come on, Birdie. You shouldn't be so flustered. I'm just telling you the truth." "I- You… think I'm cute?" Matt asked, hiding his face behind his hands. "Where have you been this whole conversation? Ja, you're cute. The cutest." Gil said, flopping back on his back with a yawn. "I could go back to sleep. Think I will. You're welcome to go back to sleeping how you were." Gil teased, and was surprised when Matt took him up on the offer. His face went as red as Matt's, and he looked down at the Canadian at his side.

Matt was looking at Gil's chest, purposefully avoiding his eyes. "I… uh… You're cute too, eh." Matt said softly, and all Gil could do was grin. He laughed a bit, and nervously grabbed Matt's hand, which was lying on his chest, and intertwined his white fingers in his. "Gilbert…" Matt started, but he trailed off. Gil used his other hand to pull Matt's face up to look him in the eyes. "I know I have some shitty timing and all, what with Al being in the hospital, but I can tell you right now that having someone by your side when you're going through a rough time is a lifesaver. I wish I would have had someone to help me with Roman, but I'll be here for you, ja? I mean. If you want me too." Gil was nervous, and what he was saying was coming out somewhat jumbled.

"What do you mean, eh?" Matt asked softly, his blue eyes staring into Gil's red ones. "I mean… Ah, fuck it. I'm awesome, I can do this." Gil muttered to himself, and then spoke up. "I want you to be my boyfriend, Birdie. I mean, uh, if you like guys, that is, and if you like me, and just… Ah, fuck, I fucked up, I shouldn't have asked that. Just forget everything I just said, ja?" Gil tried to backpedal, his face growing redder, and strangely, Matt was the one being calm.

He laughed softly and placed a quick kiss to Gil's cheek, which effectively shut him up. "Of course I like guys, Gil. I thought you would have figured it out by now! And about your question-" Matt was cut off by his phone buzzing loudly from the nightstand, and he leaned over Gil to grab it. It was Francis calling him.

"Mathieu? Alfred is awake." Francis said softly, his voice weary. "I would like for you to come back as soon as you can, cher." Matt quickly told him that he'd be there soon, and hung up. He rolled away from Gil and stripped out of his wrinkled red hoodie. "Al's awake. Do you think we can get a ride back to the hospital?" Gil nodded, pulling out his phone to text Antonio. Matt breathed in a deep breathe, and spoke up. "Oh, and uh, Gil? I… I will be your boyfriend, eh." He said with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

(**A/N:** Just a little short chapter. I've got block on this story and school and my other fic, Artistic Expressions, have pretty much taken over my life.)

Before Matt could react, Gil was out of the bed and had had pulled him into a tight hug. "Fuckin' awesome, Birdie, you won't regret it." Gil kissed his forehead, and felt his phone buzz. "Uh, Antonio can't take us but Roddy can. That cool?" Matt nodded. "Think he could wait like 20 minutes or so? I really want to take a shower." Matt asked, and Gil nodded.

Matt walked down to the bathroom, and stripped out of his clothes. He turned on the shower and let hot water run over his aching body. As he shampooed his hair, his mind began to wander, and Matt started to think about what he had just agreed to with Gil.

Matt had a boyfriend now. Matt, who had never even have a boy or girl look twice at him, was dating the new hot (yet awkward) German student. He grinned, and felt his face grow warm. Matt had never really thought twice about his crush with Gil, and had never even thought about a dating him- but now he didn't even care. His heart was beating fast, and he stepped out of the shower. Matt was happy.

He slung a towel around his waist, and walked back to his room smiling. His shower had rejuvenated him, and he hugged Gil as he walked into his room. Gil smirked. "Jeez, did you jerk it in there or something? You're happy as hell." He asked, and Matt shook his head with a laugh. "No, I just think you were right about how having someone by your side makes things easier. Now call up Roderich, we've got to go!" Matt said as he threw on clothes, and Gil did as he was told.

Once Matt was dressed, the two went to the living room to wait on Roderich. Matt plopped down on the couch and Gil plopped down right beside him. Matt cuddled against Gil, and sighed. "I've never been in a relationship before, but if this is what it's like, I love it." He said, cuddling closer. "Mmm, it is nice." Gil hummed back. They stayed like that for a while, not moving, until a car horn startled them apart.

"Shit, guess Roddy is here, then." Gil mumbled, and led Matt outside. The two climbed in the back seat of Roderich's car, and they drove off silently. "Sorry for making you drive all the way back to Saint Mary's, Mr. Edelstein." Matt offered quietly. "It really is no trouble at all, Matthew. And I've already told you, you don't have to call me Mr. Edelstein when we aren't in school," Roderich answered, not looking away from the road.

"Hell, you can call him Roddy, if you'd like." Gil snickered. "No, you may not." Roderich said, giving a sharp glare to Gilbert through the rearview mirror. "I don't even know when I started letting _you_ call me that." His eyes snapped back to the road. "I do, Roddy," Gil drew out the word, smirking. "When I first came to America you started letting me do it. Must have missed me a lot, huh?" "It wasn't anything about missing you, Gilbert. You know fully well that I saw you every break. Honestly, it was probably just because you were so mopey when you came here. Making fun of me seemed to be the only thing to cheer you up." Roderich huffed.

Matt smiled. Roderich and Gilbert argued like he and Al did. "Ja, I mean, Roman had just died. Of course I was going to be mopey." Gil said, his voice sounding just slightly sad. Matt slowly and inconspicuously reached for his hand. "But I would have gotten over it without you giving me nickname privileges." He said, returning to his usual, cheerful self once Matt's hand was resting on top of his.

It was quiet again for a while, and Roderich spoke up. "Gilbert says your brother has woken up, Matthew?" he asked. Matt nodded. "That's very good. Give him my best wishes," Roderich said as he pulled into the hospital parking lot.

"I will," Matt said, and got out when they parked. He and Gilbert got out of the car, and walked in as Roderich drove away. "You could have went home, Gil." Matt whispered as they walked towards the elevator. "Ja, I could have. But I already told you how much easier it is when you have someone." Gil said, and Matt nodded. Once they were alone in the elevator, Gil leaned down and kissed Matt's lips chastely. Matt went red, and as the elevator opened, he gripped Gil's hand. His heart was fluttering, and he was grinning ear to ear. "See? You aren't even nervous about seeing Al now," Gil laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

(**A/N:** Wow, I'm actually updating this story! Sorry about the super long wait. I really am. My story, Artistic Expressions, has taken over my life and it's seriously all I've wanted to write. Plus this story kind of has like 0 plot whatsoever to it. Idk when this will update again, so consider it on hiatus until I can come up with a plotline and I finish Artistic Expressions. Super super sorry, everyone :c)

Matt and Gil were walking down the hall to Al's room, when they saw Ivan walking towards the elevator. That's weird, did he go to visit Al? "Hey, Ivan, I didn't expect to see you here!" Matt called, and Ivan smiled. "I came to see my fellow teammate. When I heard about the crash from the coach, I immediately drove to this Catholic hospital." He said. "Oh, yeah, you're Orthodox, aren't you? Sorry, my Papa is Catholic-" Matt said, and Ivan cut him off. "Oh, no. I'm atheist. It's just that the place I was born was very much still Soviet, and acts that way until this day, and I've never seen a religious hospital before." He smiled, like this was amusing to him. "America is truly a wonderful place. But I have to be leaving now, Matvey. Give my regards to Alfred." Ivan said, and got onto the elevator.

"He's a little weird. Why does he call you Matvey?" Gil asked quietly as they walked to Al's room. "He can't say Matthew. He's a good dude, Gil. He's just got culture-shock." Matt whispered. "Oh, I feel him, then. America is fucking weird." Gil said. "I don't really remember Canada, but I can agree with that." Matt said, and they were quiet again until they reached Al's door. Matt took in a deep breath, and walked in. He was surprised to see that his dads weren't in the room, and that Alfred was alone.

"Hey, Al," Matt said softly, and Al grinned at him. He still looked a bit broken to Matt, and the bandages and casts and tubes that were all over him didn't help. "Hey, bro!" Even in a hospital bed suffering from life-threatening injuries, Alfred was still his usual, enthusiastic self. It made Matt smile. Alfred was a hard kid to break, and Matt was terribly glad for that. "So, uh, Ivan visited you?" Matt asked his brother while he tried to find a place to sit that wasn't covered in his parent's belongings. "Yeah. And honestly, you were right. He isn't such a bad dude, and he's definitely no commie. He was talking so much shit about the Soviet Union, because I asked him why he was so in awe about the crucifix above me." Alfred was beaming, and Matt laughed. "Looks like someone has a crush!" he teased, and Alfred scowled at him.

"Looks like _you've_ got a crush. Who is this bitch-ass white boy in my room?" Alfred asked, and it was teasing, but Matt saw Gil recoil slightly. He was sensitive about his albinism. Matt gave Al a look that said to cut out the 'white boy' jokes. "His name's Gilbert." Matt said, and he felt Gilbert's arm wrap around his waist. "And I'm a bit more than his crush, bitch-ass white boy." Gilbert said. Was he really that mad about the comment? Either way, Al must have missed Gil's comment, or he just didn't care, and kept talking.

"So have you heard anything about the other guys who were in the wreck? The doctor told me I was the least injured in the group, so I kind of want to know what happened. None of them are in this stupid Catholic hospital Papa forces us to always go to." Matt didn't know how Alfred could sound so casual after just undergoing major surgery. "I don't know anything about the others. Papa surely has talked to all their parents and has all the gossip though, it's just a matter of waiting until they get back. Where are they anyways?" Matt asked, and Al shrugged the best he could with all the medical equipment attached to him. "No idea. They probably went to eat."

As if on cue, Arthur and Francis walked into the room holding a bag of Wendy's. "Mathieu! You're here!" Francis beamed, and Matt waved awkwardly. "Hello, Gilbert," Arthur nodded at the albino, and Gilbert smiled and nodded back, happy that he was included in the hellos. "So, dads, do you have any gossip about the other teammates that were in the wreck?" Alfred asked, and Francis's face dropped.

"I do, though I am not sure you want to hear it." The Frenchman said, and Alfred dismissed him. "No way! I can handle it." He said defiantly. "Okay… You're the only one who's woken up yet, out of the 3 survivors. Honestly, Alfred, why did you think it was a good idea to get in that truck with all those people?!" Francis exclaimed, then sighed. "The only ones who survived the wreck were you, Toris, and Leon." Francis said softly, not making eye contact with his son. He didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes, the guilt of him being one of the few survivors. Matt saw it, though, and seeing Alfred's face drop the way it did was one of the worst things Matt had ever seen. His own face dropped, and he felt Gil grip his hand, but he didn't even register it.

Not only was his brother forming the beginning of survivor's guilt, some of the people who had died were acquaintances of Matt's. Francis let Matt know the names. Heracles, who was one of the few people Matt had talked to in his homeroom besides Gilbert, had died in the wreck. Then there were the people Matt didn't talk to, but the school he went to was small enough that he knew of them. Milen and Tai, two exchange students from Bulgaria and Thailand respectively, were also dead, and Matt thought that hurt him more than Heracles being dead. These people, though he didn't know them, had families thousands of miles away that were just now getting the call that their children were dead. They thought they were going to be getting a better education, a learning opportunity, and they just got dead. School the next day was going to be really hard.


End file.
